2BR2BA
by chef diamond heart
Summary: Librarian Bella needs a housemate to share expenses, wildlife researcher Jacob needs a place to stay. Sounds like an ideal arrangement, but there's just one thing … My entry to the TATS contest hosted by Light4Dawn, "Does my being half naked bother you?" Judge's Pick Award.


This was my entry to a TATS contest hosted by Light4Dawn, with the prompt: "Does my being half naked bother you?" _However_, it has been heavily revised, polished and added to from the original—I decided to enter the challenge just a week before the deadline and wasn't satisfied with that hurry-up offering!

All things Twilight are the sole property of Stephenie Meyers. This fan fic is purely for entertainment (mainly mine!) with no other gain. No copyright infringement is intended.

**2BR/2BA**

_HOUSEMATE NEEDED_

_Quiet, responsible roomie to share cozy 2BR/2BA house_

_Close to public trans, convenient to UW & cultural dist._

_$750 per mo. split bills. Non smoker only_

"So, any luck?" My friend Angela came up behind me, looking over my shoulder.

I sighed as I looked at my own advertisement. It was almost lost beneath the mass of other flyers and hand bills stuck on the commons room message board.

"Not a single call, and it's been nearly a week. With Edward gone, I really need someone to share expenses. I cringe at the idea of posting on Craig's List, but it's getting critical. I should have done it sooner, but, um, I just didn't have the heart for a few months there, y'know? Now I'm pretty broke." I suppressed a flutter of panic over the state of my finances.

"Believe me, I get it, but honestly, Bella, you're better off without that controlling creep."

There was no denying that she was right—and she didn't know the half of it. Still, ending the relationship hadn't been easy. I just nodded; it was history. No need to go over it all again.

"Anyway, I think I have the answer to your problem, plus you'll be helping me out at the same time."

"That sounds promising. Details?"

"Ben's pal from back home is in town and looking for a place to share. Right now he's staying with us. I really wouldn't mind, but you know how small our apartment is. You should hook up, I mean, meet him."

I let her slip of the tongue pass with only a lifted eyebrow. "Hold on! I need to know a little bit more about him."

"And so you shall. We're meeting him and Ben at the student union for a beer in half an hour." She unpinned my notice, tossed it in the recycling bin, and then hustled me outside. "His name's Jacob Black, and he'll be here at least a year. He's a great guy, Bella, honest. He and Ben go back to third grade or something. I wouldn't recommend him if he was a creep, but I _really_ want to get him off my sofa."

Events seemed to be moving rather fast, but my need was urgent. Maybe something was going my way for a change.

-oOo-

" … I'm just back from two years up at Lake Louise, tracking the movements and population growth of three different wolf packs that we fitted with radio collars. It's fascinating work."

"Wow," I said with understated brilliance. "That's … remarkable."

Angela was right. He was nice, but what she'd failed to mention was that he was also a hunk and a half. Literally. He was at least six-five with looks like a model—for the Tall Men's Shop. The fabric of his over sized t-shirt strained across a set of impressive,_ very_ impressive, muscles. Great smile, too, and those eyelashes …

Jacob was still speaking, "… have to write up my findings and apply for more grants. I've got an article due for _Mother Earth News_, plus I'm guest lecturing at the veterinary school."

"Well, it sounds like that will keep you busy." Where had my social skills gone? I sounded like a half-wit. "Do you find being back in the city a bit strange?"

"It's different, yes, but"—he raised one thick black brow and smiled down at me as if the two of us were in on a private joke—"something tells me that civilization will have its advantages. By the way, does the space come furnished? Living as I do, I don't accumulate a lot of stuff."

I was entranced watching his lips move over his even, white teeth.

"Bella's place will be just perfect," Angela chimed in, saving me as the silence of my non-answer got so long even I noticed it. She gave me a discreet jab in the ribs.

"A-absolutely!" I jolted back to myself. "There's already a spare bed and the basics. I'm sure we can round up whatever else you'd need." Eying his broad shoulders and measuring them in my mind, I added, "The second bathroom's kind of small, but it'll be all yours."

Jacob gave a happy chuckle. "The place sounds better all the time. I've been roughing it for quite a while, you know. In summer, I go for a swim to bathe, and in winter, well, that's even more primitive. Indoor plumbing of any kind feels like a luxury."

The mental image of Jacob Black, _au naturel_, wading into the pristine waters of Lake Louise then wading out, dripping, nearly made me choke on a mouthful of beer.

"So, Bella, what do you do?" he asked politely. Was it my imagination, or was he leaning forward like he was actually interested in my response? Nah, I probably just needed to speak up a little.

Clearing my throat, I explained, "I'm with the university library in the special collections branch. I restore old books and manuscripts. That must sound pretty dull to an outdoorsman." He protested to the contrary, of course, being the courteous man that he was.

We arranged for Jake—that's what Ben called him—to come see the place in the morning, and all was settled. I sat back, relieved to have a solution to my money worries, content to let the others carry the conversation as it flowed on. From time to time, I would feel his gaze on me, searching and … thoughtful. I wasn't sure what to make of him.

The guy was quite a package: handsome, intelligent, educated, well mannered—and with the ultimate macho job. I couldn't help but wonder what the flaw would be. Well, it was strictly an economic arrangement. So long as he paid up and didn't turn out to be too obnoxious, we'd be fine.

-oOo-

Two days later, Jacob moved in. He hadn't been kidding when he claimed to have few possessions—two duffle bags and a backpack, a few boxes, some cartons of books.

Unsurprising for Seattle, it rained steadily throughout the moving process; at one point he removed his sopping t-shirt and completed the chore bare-chested. I cleared a spot in the basement for his set of free weights (So that was how he maintained that marvelous physique!), and it was done.

As a welcome gesture, I made lunch. He lavishly praised the simple meal, just homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese, while I ate with my eyes fastened to my placemat, unsure how to deal with the expanse of male skin across the table.

Carefully, politely, we began settling in; the basic rules-visitors, tidiness, food—had been determined previously. Jake proved to be no messier than most men (happily, he kept his door shut) and was handy with any cooking that required only a skillet. With his sunny disposition and ready humor, we were well on the way to becoming friends. All in all, it was an auspicious beginning. There was just one thing …

"Hi, Angela."

"_Hey, Bella! I was just thinking about you."_

We spent several minutes catching up. Angela was full of plans for her upcoming wedding, making it a rather one-sided conversation till she ran down at last and said, _"So how are things with you and your new housemate?"_

"O-ohh … pretty well …" My voice trailed off.

"_That doesn't sound very convincing. What's wrong?"_

"Nothing, nothing much. It's just … you didn't tell me the guy's practically a nudist."

"_Really? Be still my heart!"_

"It's serious," I scolded, _"and_ embarrassing! I hardly know where to look sometimes."

"_He didn't do anything like that when he stayed with us. He goes naked? For real?"_

"Well, he's not entirely in the buff—"

"_Just totally buffed!"_ she interrupted, chortling at her play on words. _"And your problem is? Unless I completely disremember, he's more than easy on the eyes. As for not knowing where to look"—_there was a meaningful throat-clearing sound—_"__**I **__wouldn't have that difficulty."_

"What about Ben?"

"_Hey, I'm engaged, not dead … or blind … or lazy!" _

I chose to ignore that last comment. "He says that his temperature runs high and that after Canada even Seattle seems warm to him, but still …"

"_You could get an air conditioner," _was the flippant response.

The conversation was not going as I'd intended. Angela didn't get it—or she was pretending not to. For simplicity's sake, I mumbled a reply and changed the subject. Even as well as I knew Ange, I felt shy about revealing the truth of my interest in Jacob Black.

Naturally, I realized that renting out my spare bedroom made the place his home as well as mine, and I certainly didn't mind the sight of a nicely put together man. I was normal. It was just that the house was small, Jacob was large, and his broad, bare chest seemed to be_ everywhere_. At first, I tried to pretend the whole situation wasn't happening.

_He_ was apparently oblivious to both my discomfort and my covert interest. Could it be he honestly didn't see anything extraordinary about a constant state of undress? In front of a woman he really didn't know? Maybe that was what years in the wilderness did to a man.

It wasn't just the shirts—or absence of them. The trend continued, in a matter of speaking, below the waist. His wardrobe consisted of startlingly brief track shorts and cut-offs, but by far the worst were the boxer briefs.

In spite of my intentions to keep my eyes to myself and my thoughts on a strictly platonic level, the sight of the cotton knit hugging those taut thighs was almost my undoing. At times, I had to freeze the muscles of my hands and arms to keep from reaching out to stroke his tight glutes as he walked by. To say nothing of the front view …

Definitely hot.

My intention was to take an extended rest from romance, but my housemate was making me wonder if that course of action was really necessary. Perhaps it had been long enough. For the first time in quite a while, I started to put some effort into my looks and grooming, thrilling inside when he complimented me.

Besides, outside of the confusion caused by overexposure to so much masculine flesh, I just plain liked Jake and looked forward to being around him. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but the pleasure appeared to be mutual …

One day at the Library Sciences lab, where I was bent over my latest project, I heard, "Is Bella Swan in?" from the outer office. My head jerked up at the sound of a familiar voice. Rising from my table, I stepped out to greet him.

"Well, hi, Jake! It's a surprise to see you with your—it's a surprise to see you here." _With your shirt on_ was what I'd started to say.

He was standing casually enough, but I thought I could detect signs of nervousness under the nonchalance. His hands, thrust into the pockets of his light jacket, were jigging up and down under the fabric. Presentiments of broken water pipes or some exotic wolf emergency requiring his immediate departure flashed through my mind.

"There's nothing wrong, is there?"

"It's raining."

Being that we were in Seattle, it was hardly breaking news. I raised my eyebrows.

"I mean, I was in the area and thought you might, uh, like a ride home. Y'know, so you don't have to get soaked at the bus stop."

It was on the tip of my tongue to say that he'd be a pretty busy man if he wanted to keep me dry in the Pacific Northwest, but I stopped myself. He might have thought I was hinting for regular chauffeur service or something. Highly aware of the speculative stares of my co-workers, I smiled my thanks and got my coat.

We were bouncing along in Jacob's battered Jeep (which had a faint aroma of wet dog), when he asked me what I'd been working on. I told him I was restoring a homemade diary kept by an early pioneer on the Oregon Trail.

"Cool!" His enthusiasm surprised me, I'd thought he was simply being polite. "How come you were wearing white gloves?"

"Oh, that's to protect the paper from the oils on my skin."

Prompted by his questions, I described the processes involved, all the while discreetly watching his face for signs of boredom. His engagement was genuine. I wasn't used to that kind of attention. With Edward, we'd usually discussed _his_ concerns. Jacob was really listening, smiling and nodding, and I began to loosen up, wanting to share my love for the work. His friendly interest warmed a cold, forlorn place that had been inside me for a long, long time.

Other places were getting pretty warm too.

Among Jake's sparse belongings was a battered cylindrical leather case, which held a tribal hand drum-a family heirloom, he explained. "I play now and then to help me think. Please let me know if it bothers you."

Sometimes in the night I would hear a soft pum-pah-pum, a quiet background sound in the dark house. The rhythm would blend with the beat of my heart and pulse, while I tossed and turned in the tangled sheets. He was bothering me all right, but it wasn't the music that disturbed me—it was the thought of Jacob, only a few feet away, also wakeful … and wearing who knew what.

Startling images of my roommate began to populate my dreams, bringing powerful, erotic reactions. At times I jolted awake, heart pounding, my insides still quivering with remembered passion. The first couple of times it happened, I could scarcely face him and had to turn away when we met in the hall or the kitchen to avoid his eyes. Logic reminded me that he couldn't be aware of our activities in my subconscious mind, and I forced myself to behave as normally as possible.

I began to fantasize while awake as well.

In the middle of an ordinary conversation, I'd lose track of what was being said while watching his lips move, imagining him kissing me. Jake talked with his hands, and my skin would burn, thinking of those hands on my body, those strong arms gathering me to him. The throbbing ache between my legs was a nearly constant companion.

It was frustrating and exciting, embarrassing and enthralling. At times I felt I'd fly apart into a million pieces if I couldn't get some relief—more than could be generated on my own.

"Get a grip, Bella!" I tried to talk myself out of my ridiculous obsession. "This. Is. Not. Real. He's not attracted to you, not the way you are to him." Simply put, he was amazing, and I was … just me.

But there were times I'd feel his eyes on me. I'd catch an expression on his face, similar to the one at our first meeting. It was a _knowing_ look, as if we shared a secret, but lately it was more somehow, more intense. I started to wonder, to hope even, if my assessment of his interest, or lack of it, might not be wrong.

-oOo-

It was Sunday, early summer, a bright day. The temperature was still cool, but I yielded to the longing for air and sunlight on my skin by putting on a tank top and shorts. Jacob evidently felt something similar. Rather, he made no changes to his usual wardrobe choice, but he dragged out my charcoal grill and announced, "I make a mean blue cheese bacon burger!" I started poking through the fridge and cupboards for side dish items.

Prepping the meal together, bantering and laughing, we could have been any pair of friends and housemates, but there was an undercurrent of awareness that made my stomach flutter in the most pleasant way. Throughout the afternoon and into the evening, I would turn and catch _that look_ in his eyes. Sometimes the focus was my face; other times I could see him observing the outlines of my breasts through the revealing top or appraising my legs. When there was a lull in the conversation, the silence felt thick and full of promise.

_Is this it?_ I wondered to myself, hoping, wanting. _Is it happening?_

Typical of the northwest, the temperature began to fall rapidly as the sun went down, and gray clouds began to gather. Just as we were taking the last bites of the meal, a few heavy raindrops hit. Laughing, we grabbed up the dishes and dashed inside, getting jammed up in the narrow kitchen doorway.

There was that look again.

Without breaking eye contact, we extricated ourselves. Jake took the plates from me and set them aside. Then he put his hands lightly on my hips, but there was still space between us. Too much space.

"Bella, I—"

A voice in my head drowned him out, ordering me, _**GO!**_ Refusing to second guess myself—I'd done enough of that—I took a deliberate step forward so that our bodies met from knee to thigh to belly. I couldn't quite bring myself to look him in the face; my gaze fixed on the scattering of hairs between his pecs. My palms slid up his chest, finally allowing myself the touch I'd dreamed of, awake and asleep, in such detail.

I traced each curve and ripple of muscle under the surprisingly smooth skin while Jake stood still for my exploration, his thumbs gently stroking the hollows just inside my hip bones. His innate vitality sparked in my fingertips like electricity, and then up my arms to my body, tightening my nipples as the current traveled to my core.

"Feels even better than it looks." The whispered words slipped from me as I tilted my head back and our eyes finally met.

There was only an instant for me to absorb the intense focus of his expression; his pupils dilated so the brown irises were nearly swallowed by black. His full lips were parted slightly, coming nearer … then they were crushed against mine. There was nothing in the world but mouths and arms, warm flesh and fierce, hungry kisses.

His grip shifted, and I was lifted effortlessly to the counter. His arms circled me so tight I could scarcely breathe, yet it wasn't tight enough for me. My thighs parted, my wrists crossed behind his neck, and I leaned my full weight against him. Clasping, stroking, murmuring, my senses were filled with the reality of Jacob Black, his smell and substance, the complete_ rightness _of being with him.

Heaven.

Jacob's hands slipped under the hem of my tank; as an outdoorsman, they were rough with work, but his touch was delicate. The contrast of the hard calluses on my soft skin, caressing my stomach and lower back, inflamed me. I grasped his hand with my own and lifted it, still under the shirt, to my breast.

He bent his head and brushed my shoulder with his lips, and then pulled the strap of my top aside and down with his teeth, baring me on that side. A swirl of his tongue and I was lost in the wonder of his mouth on my nipple. I moaned and tilted my head back, dimly feeling it thud against the cupboard door, as a white-hot charge of lightening shot from his lips to my core.

A little _mmph_ of protest sounded from me when he disengaged and backed away.

"We shouldn't being doing this."

My jaw fell open in dismay. I shriveled inside at my vulnerability, sitting there with my breast exposed, the air cool against my wet skin. I'd shown him my desire and he—

"Not here." He leaned in again, pressing his forehead to mine so that his face filled my vision. His breath was soft on my face, and his voice was husky with emotion as he said, "I want you so bad, Bella, I might_ hurt_ you if I take you on the counter this way. I need to touch you … everywhere." Fingers stroked my inner thigh, under the edge of my shorts, following the elastic of my panties.

"Yes, yes," I whispered, dizzy with the acknowledgement that his craving equaled mine.

He pulled me closer and gripped my bottom, raising me from the counter. My center met the hard swelling at the front of his shorts, and my legs instinctively locked behind his back as he carried me to his room and set me down on the roughly made bed.

He watched me peel off the tank top and fling it aside. My skin tingled under his gaze, and I arched my back, displaying myself while he caressed my shoulders, breasts, and throat with his eyes. The mattress dipped as Jake rested his weight on one knee; he hovered over me, nibbling teasingly at my lips while he worked off my shorts, then his hands moved to the fly of his cut-offs. I stopped him.

"Let me." Arousal made me clumsy, and my fingers trembled slightly as they unbuttoned the denim shorts and tugged them down. He stood, allowing the fabric to drop, and then kicking it away. His erection bobbed with the motions, an iridescent liquid pearl glistening at its tip.

Letting impulse guide me, I wrapped my arms around his hips, pressing his hard length between my cheek and his abdomen. The heat, the echo of his heartbeat against my face, the rich male scent of him combined to fill my senses.

"I need just a taste," I whispered and smiled up at him before turning my words to actions. With my tongue, I gave a long rolling lap to his glans, then another, then another, longer and more searching. It would have been all too easy to lose myself, to become absorbed in all his textures and flavors.

"Oh god, Bella." He gasped and palmed my chin, gently freeing himself. With a jerk, he opened the drawer of the nightstand and rummaged inside. Then he was back on the bed, kneeling between my legs. Anticipation made me wiggle my hips, and I pulled at his thighs, willing him to enter me.

"I need just a taste."

He smirked down at me, and I realized he was repeating my words from moments earlier. Almost paralyzed with excitement, I watched him slowly draw a finger in circles around my navel, then down, down. The finger flicked between my lower lips as I shuddered in response, then it was brought to his mouth and savored there. With a growl, he lifted my hips high, slipping my legs over his shoulders. His face, what I could see of it, was taut with concentration as he worked me over with tongue and teeth; my eyes fluttered shut, my heart pounded, all awareness swirled to center on the sensations he was provoking.

My climax had scarcely started to ebb when he shifted, lowering me to the bed, nudging my legs apart, and plunging into me. I made a wordless exclamation at the abrupt change, startled, but rejoicing in the feeling of our bodies joined, of being filled with his thickness and heat, carried along by the motion and strength.

Jacob's bulk on top of me, with my legs stretched wide to accommodate him, satisfied me in a previously unknown way. I was consumed with the sense of being possessed by him, knowing that he could overpower me if he chose, or he could be tender, but that either way would be wonderful.

His arm moved down to clasp my waist, pulling me slightly up off the bed so that he could enter me more deeply; my hips angled up to meet him, my ankles were crossed just under his shoulder blades. His thrusts touched something inside me, then again and again … I was lost, my own soft cries and Jacob's whispered encouragement making a distant soundtrack to my pleasure.

It was a satisfaction of a different sort, though no less potent, to feel him pulse deep inside me and hear him groan into the curve of my neck as he met his release.

We lay sprawled together over the rumpled covers, basking in those quiet moments after the tumult of sex, when lovers exist in a world apart. Raindrops pattered on the roof as our hearts and breathing slowed to normal. A breeze from the partly open window brought the smell of wet earth and leaves; I shivered as it wafted over my sweat-damp skin. Jake pulled the sheet up over me, and I snuggled close into his side, my head in the hollow of his shoulder.

My hand smoothed across his sternum then down his abs to rest on the flat of his stomach. It hardly seemed believable that we were together like this; I needed to keep touching him to make it seem real.

"You're so warm. Like a six-foot-five portable heater. I remember you said something, but I wasn't sure …"

"Thought I was running around half naked just to bother you?"

"Er, well, no? Couldn't be, I mean …"

"Well, I was."

He … _what? _

"You planned it." My voice was flat as I let the knowledge sink in. I rolled away from him, flopping onto my back to stare at the ceiling in wonder. That put a whole new slant on things. Absently, my fingers began pleating the sheet into a wad over my breasts.

Jacob propped himself up on an elbow to look down into my face. My expression must not have been very encouraging because he sounded anxious as he said, "Before you jump to conclusions, hear me out. Please?

"When Ben told me he knew this librarian who was looking for a housemate, I pictured some frowning frump, but what the hell, I needed a place. Then we met and, well, Bella, I didn't know they made librarians as cute as you! Cute and sexy at the same time."

_That_ was nonsense. A little squawk of contradiction erupted from me; he put a finger over my lips. "And sweet and nice." There was no doubting the warmth and sincerity of his smile. I subsided.

"Hey, you know me well enough by now, I think. I'm not the kind of jerk who would just presume that the landlady came with the rent. You're not that kind either. I, uh, needed to make an impression.

"Angela said you were sort of on the rebound, or about due to be, so I knew I had to act fast before some other guy caught your eye. That was the only thing that came to mind. Play to your strengths and all. And yes, I really do feel uncomfortably warm a lot of the time but, um, not so much."

My first impulse was to protest, to say his ploy had been unnecessary, was silly even. But …maybe he was right. I'd been so sunk in misery after Edward left, even though it was my decision, nurturing my broken heart and sense of worthlessness, a more subtle approach might well have been lost on me.

Wow.

Even more amazing, it wasn't just a onetime expression of lust that would leave us uncomfortable and distant afterward.

He liked me.

He thought I was nice … and sweet and sexy.

Jacob Black—gorgeous, adorable _Jacob Black, _who could have any woman he wanted_—_planned and worked to make an impression on_ me!_ It all added up: the little jokes, the shared meals, how he admired my new hairstyle, the way he called my name when he came home.

A knot inside me began to unravel. My muscles relaxed into the bedding, and I took what felt like the first truly deep breath in … forever.

Jake continued, his voice taking on a note of urgency. "I wasn't sure you were noticing. It seemed you were always hiding behind that pretty hair." He pasued for a moment to smooth back a stray lock, turning the gesture into a caress. "Sometimes I'd see you looking, but you'd turn away, so cool, like your mind was on something else. It wasn't till pretty recently that I thought that maybe … maybe you felt like I did."

Typically, in the midst of surprise and happiness, my mind began to supply objections.

The future was uncertain; we both had careers, disparate ones at that, and ties to different places and—_Why am I fighting this? _I asked myself.

I had no idea.

Nothing in life was guaranteed. Then and there I broke the habit of a lifetime by refusing to let that bother me. After all, I'd been so sure how things would turn out between me and-and … what's-his-name. Yes, some issues would have to be dealt with—but later.

Jake watched me closely as I came to my silent conclusions, looking more and more uneasy. An irresistible tickle of wicked humor rose inside me.

I sat up, the sheet slid down to gather around my waist. He got bonus points for keeping his gaze on my face. Assuming as grave an expression as I could manage, I said primly, "Very well, I think … we can work things out. BUT the landlady is officially changing the dress code rules."

The look of severity couldn't be held any longer. My lips split into a mischievous grin, and I let my desire for him shine from my eyes. Walking my fingers under the covers and down his abdomen, I continued, "From now on, it's boxer briefs—or nothing."

-oOo-oOo-oOo-

As always, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to leelator, my friend, soul mate and beta-Domme extraordinaire. Her wickedly funny fic, How to Seduce a Werewolf, is in my Favorites file on ffnet and is a selection in The Bella and Jacob Chronicles on Twilighted.

Wolfgirl thanks to DancingBarefoot for prereading & commenting. Check out her haunting BPOV poem, The Fragments of September, on ffnet.


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